


it's nothing

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Bloodplay, Choking, Dark Shiro - Freeform, Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Fingerfucking, Fisting, M/M, Rimming, Shower Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-07 18:03:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7724401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I wasn’t asking.” Is all Lance said before he took up an offensive position, the annoyed look on his face replaced with one of concentration. “I’m gonna figure out what’s going on, even if I have to beat it out of you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. p1

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote fisting!!!! i don't!!! know!!! why!
> 
> chapter two is gonna be...so much worse! :)
> 
> roast me @ twitter.com/beastbsns

The dream came to him in flashes. Dark, smooth thighs pushed over his shoulders. Hands grasping desperately at crumpled sheets. Kiss bitten lips murmuring one name over and over again. Shiro can’t make it out.

Lance’s blue eyes stare up at him, bore into him. A hand grasps Lance’s neck. Metal claws dug into the soft flesh of his throat. Shiro expects him to scream, to tug at the wrist and beg. Instead Lance arches, his head falling back as he moans out the name again. Shiro still can’t make it out. He only knows it’s not his own.

The same claws digging into Lance’s throat move down his chest and taut stomach, leaving red crevices for droplets of blood to pool. Shiro can’t help but lean down to lick away the blood. The metallic taste practically burns on his tongue.

He watches Lance’s fingers wrap around the wrist of the clawed hand, bringing the bloodied points to his lips. He swipes his own blood away with his tongue, glassy eyes rolling up to stare at Shiro again. He’s saying something, spreading his legs wider.

This time Shiro can make it out.

“Fuck me, Kuro.”

 

* * *

Shiro refused to look at Lance the morning after. The way Lance stared at him, the way Lance moaned that name; it refused to leave his mind. He opted to spend most of the day in the training room, avoiding Lance as much as possible when moving around the castle couldn’t be avoided. Lance would catch on eventually, but Shiro didn’t think he could confront Lance and tell him about his...wet dreams.

It didn’t take long for Lance to be the one to confront him.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Lance said plainly as he stepped onto the training mat, looking unimpressed.

“Lance-”

“Don’t-” He held up his hands, taking another step towards Shiro. “Don’t try to deny it. I’m not stupid. And even if I was, you’re not subtle.” He sighed, his arms dropping down to cross over his chest. “Just...tell me what’s going on. So it doesn’t affect Voltron.”

“It’s nothing. Nothing important.” His knuckles turn white around the staff he holds. If Lance notices he doesn’t say anything.

Lance thought for a moment. “Fine.” He said, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it to the side. He held out his hand and a training staff manifests. “If nothings wrong, spar with me.”

Shiro swallowed. “Lance, I don’t-”

“I wasn’t asking.” Is all Lance said before he took up an offensive position, the annoyed look on his face replaced with one of concentration. “I’m gonna figure out what’s going on, even if I have to beat it out of you.”

Lance is fast. Much faster than Shiro had anticipated. It only takes a few seconds for Shiro to be flat on his back with the end of a training staff pressing against his jugular. His own staff has rolled off to some other side of the room, completely forgotten.

“Go again?” Lance asked with a grin that has Shiro’s blood running ice cold. He goes to pull the staff away, but Shiro gets a hard grip on it that sends Lance tumbling to the ground with a sharp tug. Lance scrambled to stand back up, but Shiro was already on him, kneeling between his legs and pinning his hands to the mat with the staff.

“What is going on with you?” Lance grit out, sweat already beading on his forehead as he struggles to get his hands free.

“I’ve already told you,” Shiro said, keeping Lance’s hands pinned down to the mat with ease. “Nothing is wrong.” He knew he didn’t sound convincing, but he could barely put two thoughts together with Lance squirming and struggling underneath him as he tried to get free.

If Lance was only annoyed before, now he’s actually angry. His nostrils flared, and he kneed Shiro hard enough in the gut to send the older man reeling. “You’re so full of bullshit!” He snapped, gaining momentum long enough to slam Shiro face first to the mat.

Lance huffed, and fell back to the mat on his forearms, panting. Shiro groaned as he sat back up, stars still swimming in his vision.

Once he sees straight, he’s already dizzy again. Lance’s shirt was ridden up, revealing long, red scratches that disappeared under his shirt. They were still fresh. Barely scabbed over. Shiro tried not to stare, but he couldn’t help it.

“Lance.” He was barely able to choke it out, the images in the dream rushing back to him all at once. “Where did you-where did you get those?”

Lance froze, his head snapping as he seemed to suddenly remember the cuts along his stomach. He shoved his shirt down, scowling as he stood back up. “It’s nothing.” He said curtly, turning on his heel to stalk out.

Shiro didn’t have it in him to call Lance a hypocrite.

* * *

“You almost gave us away.”

Lance doesn’t stop. He already knows he doesn’t have to. He’ll be followed no matter where he goes or what he does.

“I know.” Lance said, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. He frowned as he realized he left his jacket behind. No matter. He’ll just get it later. Having to see Shiro would just set him off again, and he didn’t think he could deal with having to explain the cuts along his stomach.

He was only one step back in his room before a hand wrapped around his neck, gentle enough to not leave marks, but tight enough that he knows it’s a warning.

“Shouldn’t you take this more seriously?” Kuro hissed into his ear, the edges of the metal claws skimming under his shirt.

Lance shivered. “Probably.” He said, feeling the smooth planes of Kuro’s body pressing against his own.

Kuro squeezed his throat one last time, before letting it slip down along his chest. “Do you know what they’d do if they found out about me? About _us_?”

“There is no, ‘us’.” Lance said, holding back a whine as Kuro nipped along his throat, his fingers making work of the button and zipper on his jeans. He was already hard, his bulge pressing against Lance’s ass. “I’m only doing this to protect everyone else.”

Kuro shoved him to one of the fixtures lined along the wall, forcing him to bend over till his cheek waspressed against the smooth surface.

“To protect everyone else?” Kuro asked. Lance could hear the amusement in his voice. “You begging me to fuck you is to protect everyone else?” He shoved Lance’s pants and boxers down in one swift motion, topping it off with a hard smack to his ass. “You choking on my cock is to protect everyone else?” And one more, harder than the first.

He felt hot breath along the back of his thighs, before teeth dug into the flesh, sucking purpling bruises into his skin. He whimpered, burying his head into his arms. More bruises join the last one, sharpened canines almost drawing blood with each bite. By the end of it he’s rocking his hips back, gasping and moaning into his arm. Kuro already knew what he wanted.

Lance couldn’t help the desperate groan that escaped him when he felt Kuro’s tongue dragging over his hole. It’s just a teasing gesture, as Kuro kneaded his ass, biting more marks into the tender flesh. Lance pushed his hips back, just on the verge of actually begging. He didn’t want to give the fucker the satisfaction of hearing him beg. Not yet, at least.

Kuro’s tongue was back on his hole, still teasing with gentle licks that had Lance whimpering into his arm again. It doesn’t take long before Kuro is dragging his tongue from his balls to his hole, spit working it’s way down Lance’s thighs. Kuro pressed his fingers hard into Lance’s skin, no doubt leaving bruises, as he finally worked his tongue completely over the puckered flesh of Lance’s hole, twisting and plunging as he fucked him with the wet muscle.

Kuro pressed a finger to Lance’s entrance, working it in slowly as he fucked him on his tongue. He only got halfway, waiting to really ease Lance open later. Right now, he settled on fucking him a knuckle deep along with his tongue in a sloppy rhythm. Still, it leaves Lance writhing, rolling his hips back against Kuro’s mouth.

It ends all too soon, Kuro standing and wiping the drool from his mouth. Lance panted into his arms, allowing himself to glance back at Kuro as he works his shirt off, revealing the smooth torso underneath. It’s nothing like Shiro’s, Lance noted for what felt like the thousandth. There are no scars, no raised, jagged flesh. Just an imposters skin.

Kuro’s fingers dig into his scalp, gripping his hair and snapping his head back. “Is this still for everyone else?” He asked, bent over Lance’s body to hiss in his ear. He’s stripped off his pants, his cock pressing against Lance’s ass bare and hot.

Lance tried not to moan as Kuro moved his hips, grinding down against his ass, rubbing just barely against his spit slicked hole.

“Slut.” Kuro said, slapping his ass hard one more time, leaving the already abused flesh stinging.

The heat of Kuro’s body left for a moment, only to be replaced with a lube slicked finger pressing against his entrance, easing him open with patience Kuro rarely showed anywhere else. Lance tried to keep his thighs from shaking, but Kuro was already curling his finger inside of him, pressing another to his entrance, teasing it in slowly.

Two fingers pumped Lance slowly, only picking up in pace when Lance canted his hips back, practically fucking himself on them. Another finger eventually joined the two, curling and scissoring hard inside of him. Lance whined, biting hard into his arm just to keep himself from begging. He knew Kuro could keep this up as long as he wanted, fucking him on his fingers and nothing else.

“I don’t think I should fuck you.” Kuro said, his pinky pressing against Lance’s hole, leaving the smaller boy gasping into his arm. “I shouldn’t even be giving you this.” Four fingers now, fucking into him hard and fast, pressing almost to the spot Lance knew Kuro was avoiding.

Lance still wasn’t about to beg, no matter how much he wanted to feel Kuro’s cock inside him. He’d settle for this, shivering as he felt Kuro’s thumb trace along his hole.

“You want all of it?” Kuro was at his ear now, tugging at the lobe with his teeth. “I should just fuck you with my fist, since you seem to enjoy it so much.”

Lance whimpered, nails scratching along the surface of the fixture. His cock ached, precum dripping down his length and to the floor. He wanted to reach a hand down to stroke himself, but he knew it’d just lead to punishment. And God, he just wanted to be fucked. The feel of Kuro’s thumb pressing against his hole was already sending him reeling.

The stretch was wide, so wide, he didn’t think he could take it. The feel of Kuro’s fist curling inside had him practically sobbing, his chest heaving as he gasped for air.

He didn’t have a chance to adjust. Kuro was already pulling his fist back out and slamming it back in, starting a quick pace that had Lance’s hips quaking. He could feel the sharp edges of Kuro’s claws digging into his back, cutting deeper and deeper as he fucked Lance on his fist.

Just as soon as it was there, it was gone. Kuro gripped his hips and spun him around, shoving him to sit up on the fixture. Kuro pushed his legs apart, entering him with one, hard thrust. Lance’s head fell back, a sobbing moan escaping him as Kuro fucked him without abandon. Kuro’s metal hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him in time with his powered thrusts.

Lance gripped the back of Kuro’s neck, pulling him down into a heated kiss, more teeth and tongue than anything. The new angle of Kuro bending down shortened his thrusts, but allowed for his cock to hit Lance right where he wanted him. Lance was barely even aware of any of the sounds he made, too focused on the feel of Kuro’s cock slamming against his prostate.

Lance gripped at Kuro’s shoulders, his nails dragging down along his arms, leaving matching red marks to the ones on his stomach.

It only took a few more thrusts before Lance was coming hard, his head thrown back as his hips shuddered. Even as he was coming in hot stripes along their stomachs, Kuro’s clawed hand pumped his cock, milking him for all he was worth.

He didn’t know how much time passed before Kuro was coming inside of him. All he was aware of was the name that left his lips as Kuro filled him to the brim.

Shiro.


	2. right to the climax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’ll let it drag on. See how far he can stretch this before the band breaks. Before he can take what he really wants, and be on his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :))))))))))))))))))))))) kill me  
> also this is gonna be three chapters now cause i lost inspiration around the end of writing this part. you can tell cause it goes from ok shit to shit shit.   
> my twitter is beastbsns if u wanna yell at me

Kuro had not come into his life quickly. Lance hadn’t existed on his own one moment with Kuro’s hands grasping his neck the next. It’d happened gradually, slowly.

Maybe it was just another one of Kuro’s mind games. Lance wasn’t sure.

It’d started with flashes. Movement out of the corner of his eye. Broad shadows in already dark rooms. Lance had chalked it up to exhaustion from the constant fighting and training. There’d barely been time for a break in those few weeks, so once everything finally died down, and el fantasma was still there, Lance practically panicked.

He asked Pidge and Hunk about it, only getting concerned looks. He stopped asking. He tried to convince himself that he was just seeing things. Worst case scenario, he was getting space madness.

Then things escalated. He saw shadows when he looked in mirrors. He felt touches trailing down his spine, then lower, lower, _lower_ -

He resigned to locking himself in his room one night, trying to will away the panic washing over him. He didn’t want to deal with the fact he’d gone insane.

But arms wrapped around him, comforting, and he breathed out a sigh of relief. “You’re not going insane.” Was whispered in his ear, and a chill ran hard down his spine.

Maybe he wasn’t insane. Maybe this was actually real. If this was nothing more than a game, he’d play along. For now.

“What are you?” He whispered, too scared to raise his voice any higher.

“El fantasma.” Hands trailed down his waist, down his thighs.

When he turned to face whatever had been haunting him, he didn’t expect Shiro’s face to be staring back at him.

“You don’t have to call me that anymore.” Shiro-no, this wasn’t Shiro. Lance didn’t know what the fuck this was-said, a metal, clawed thumb swiping across his bottom lip. “I have a name.”

Lance swallowed. “Why should I care?” He managed weakly, gasping as a hot tongue ran along his neck. What the fuck was going on?

“Because you’ll need something to moan when I fuck you, won’t you?” The thing grinned, sharpened canines glinting under the blue light of the lamps.

Lance felt his heartbeat in his throat, the panic that had since begun to slowly reside now bursting its way back through his senses. He scrambled off the bed, backing away until he hit one of the dressers lined along the wall.

“Cute.” The thing said, the grin never leaving it’s face. “Humans are so fragile.” It stood, taking a single step towards Lance. Nothing more. “Mentally and physically. What a wonder that your species was chosen to pilot Voltron.” Another step. “How did your mind not snap the moment you walked into the Lion? Thousands of years of memory flooding your mind, the souls of past Paladins reaching to your very core.”

He was right in front of Lance now, a clawed hand hovering by his neck; contemplating.

“Or maybe you’re not truly the Blue Paladin.” The hand fell. “Maybe you’re just a buffer.”

“Fuck you.” Lance spat, frozen to the spot he stood. He knew if he tried to run, he wouldn’t get far. If he tried to call for help, his throat would be slashed open.

Nothing was all he could do.

“But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.”

The hand closed around Lance’s throat before he could bite out a response, all the air in his lungs now trapped.

“Let’s play a game.” The thing said. “The rules are simple. I think you’ll like them, actually.”

Lance tried to kick the thing in the stomach. Its free hand grasped his ankle in a swift motion.

In another second, he was on his back, one leg pushed up to his chest. The hand on his throat never left. Never tightened. Never loosened.

“Your mind was simple to breach. All that intelligence you keep locked up in there? Such a waste that you never use it. So what does this mean?” The already wide grin stretched impossibly wider. “I know everything about you. Every single desire you keep locked up, I know. You think this form was an accident? A coincidence?”

The yellow orbs for eyes trailed from Lance’s face down to his navel, where his shirt had ridden up.

“I can give you everything you want from him. From, what’s his name? Shiro?”

Lance hissed with the air he could manage out.

The thing laughed. Nonetheless, it continued. “Everything you want from him; I can give to you. I’m nothing but a sickening desire, if you want me to be.”

The grip on his throat loosened. An opening for an answer, Lance guessed.

“Fuck you.” He spat, teeth bared.

“I should explain the rest of the deal.” The thing said with a sigh. If it had pupils, it would be rolling its eyes.

“Go ahead then.” Lance said. “You don’t scare me…Whatever the hell you are.”

“El fantasma.” The thing chuckled. “Strangely fitting for me, I guess.” It shrugged. “But you can’t call me that forever. Kuro would be much better.”

Lance sneered. “Fine.”

And Lance sat there, listening, leg aching and sore from being held so tight to his chest for so long.

Every part of the deal made him sick. The idea of this thing taking Shiro’s face, the idea of it playing as him in some demented roleplay. It made him dizzy. With sickness? And what else? He ignored it.

But he’d agreed. Of course he had. And how pathetic was he? A quick fuck every once in a while in exchange for Kuro keeping all the information he knew about Voltron away from Galran hands.

Pathetic didn’t even begin to describe him. The anticipation that bubbled inside of him, excited him, when Kuro pulled their hips together, grinned with his teeth when he felt Lance was already half hard in his jeans.

But Kuro was gone, leaving Lance laying there red faced and just on the verge of desperate.

That in itself, Lance knew now, was a warning.

He’d ignored it. Of course. Of course.

* * *

 

The first time it happens, he was in the shower.

It was a long day. Too long. Even the couple of hours he spent in the healing pod didn’t take away the ache of exhaustion he felt down to his bones.

Everyone else had already gone to bed, just as bruised and tired as he was.

He turned the water on, all the way up until the heat burns his skin red and raw. He sighed, content, letting his forehead rest against the wall. If he stayed there, he probably could have fallen asleep.

Cold hands sliding down his waist didn’t let him, though.

He yelps, almost slipping as he whipped around to find yellow eyes staring down at him, amused.

Lance tries not to think about the fact that Kuro is right there, fucking fully clothed, already getting soaked. And he tries not to stare at the muscle straining against the already too tight clothes, only defined even more by the water.

“Relax.” Kuro said, his hands braced on the wall on either side of Lance’s head, locking him in.

“What are you gonna do?” Lance asks, voice barely above a whisper. He’s scared. Why wouldn’t he be?

Kuro grins -like he always does- and opts to kiss Lance instead of telling him. It’s slow, methodical. Kuro takes his time breaking Lance down, sucking on Lance’s bottom lip till it’s red and swollen. His tongue pries Lance’s lips open, traces every tooth, barely presses against Lance’s tongue before pulling back. And, God, Lance breaks, he fucking shatters, his arms slinging lazily over Kuro’s shoulders, dragging him down and keeping him there.

It continues like that, Kuro keeping him pressed against the wall, his hips hovering just inches away from Lance’s. When they finally press together, completely whole, Lance is already hard, cock pressing between them with finally some friction. Lance’s hips stutter, grinding against the front of Kuro’s soaked pants.

But then it was gone, and Lance was ready to collapse boneless to the ground. All it took was Lance opening his eyes to see Kuro kneeling between his legs, smirking up at him.

The water, still boiling hot, felt cold against his skin.

He barely contains his shout when Kuro finally takes him into his mouth, swallowing him down like it’s nothing. His tongue is warm, pressing into the slit to taste the pre cum already gathered there.

Lance has never had anyone’s mouth anywhere on him before. A press of Kuro’s tongue against his cock is enough to send him reeling. He grips at the white strands resting damp against Kuro’s forehead and tugs _hard_ when Kuro swallows around him.

Kuro’s eyes snap up to him. He fucking _growls_.

The slow movements Kuro had before quicken, his head bobbing over Lance’s cock like it’s the last taste of it he’s ever gonna get. He swallows, every damn time he takes Lance’s into his throat. Drool slips down his chin, his nails and claws digging into Lance’s already sensitive skin.

Lance’s hips buck, but Kuro slams him against the wall, and takes him in with one, slow movement till his nose presses to Lance’s navel.

Their eyes meet, with Lance’s cock deep down Kuro’s throat, not even choking him. Yellow eyes stare at him, taunting almost.

Lance screams as he comes.

* * *

 

When Keith comes running in minutes later with his Bayard drawn, eyes wild and shirt backwards, Lance lies and says it was a space spider.

Keith squints at him for a few moments, and eventually with a huff, staggers back to bed.

* * *

 

Lance has two fingers inside of himself the second time it happens. He’s close, so, so close when a hand grips his wrist and tugs it away. He doesn’t shriek this time, but it startles him enough that he scrambles back and away.

He almost sighs in relief when he sees it’s Kuro.

“I thought we had a deal.” Kuro says, his hands brushing against the inside of Lance’s thighs, pushing his legs open and wide.

Lance almost bites out a sarcastic response, but Kuro’s teeth are on the inside of his thigh, sucking at the olive skin till it’s purple. He doesn’t stop there. Before he touches Lance anywhere else, he places scattered hickeys and bite marks around Lance’s thighs, taking his sweet fucking time.

When Lance huffs, annoyed but harder than a goddamn rock, Kuro laughs.

It’s nothing like Shiro’s, Lance thinks.

But apparently Kuro can read minds, along with all the other freaky shit he can do, and frowns.

By the time the castle generated morning comes around, Kuro has four fingers fucking Lance senseless. It’s been nothing else, just Kuro finger fucking him till he gets _just_ on the edge, then pulling out, replacing it with his tongue, lapping and sucking at the sensitive skin. It’s not enough to make him come. But it’s enough to set his nerves on fire.

Once he finally does come, he thinks he whites out, because when he comes to he’s hanging halfway off the bed, Kuro long gone.

He tries to stand, but his knees lock and he collapses helplessly to the ground.

He stays like that until Hunk comes to drag him to breakfast an hour later.

When a Galra ship attacks a nearby planet, Kuro is there to wink down at him from the landing above the hangar.

* * *

 

It takes a few more times before Kuro finally fucks him.

Lance hadn’t seen his cock before. Kuro is always fully clothed, even when he corners Lance in the showers. It’s weird, but Lance is getting laid by a Shiro clone when he isn’t piloting a giant space lion. So he doesn’t say anything.

This time is different, apparently.

He’s figured the easiest way to get Kuro to appear is to try and get himself off. The other is always there within a few minutes, to either pin his hands above his head and grind against him till Lance comes between them, or alternate fucking him with his fingers and tongue.

This time, he tries it a little different.

He buries his head into his pillow, spreading his legs wide as he pushes a finger into himself, slow as he can. It’s a bit hard to reach, with his hips up in the air as he spreads himself open. Another finger, and he’s rocking his hips against air, acting like he’s desperate for real friction. Which, in all honesty, he actually is.

One drawn out moan later as he drools into his pillow is all it takes.

Hands spread over his hips, down his ass. He moans, moans like a goddamn whore, and shoots back the sexiest look he can muster back at Kuro.

The grin that never seems to leave his face is gone, replaced with something much more animalistic. Lance watches something inside Kuro almost snap. Lance’s hand is yanked away; his legs are pushed apart even farther.

“Slut.” Kuro says, and Lance all but agrees.

* * *

 

Kuro doesn’t fuck him immediately. He drags it out, like he drags everything else out. He pushes Lance on his back, slings his legs over his shoulders. He takes Lance’s cock in one hand, pumping him in quick motions that has Lance clawing and tugging at the sheets. Kuro kisses him, hard, biting and tugging at his lips, rubbing their tongues together until spit dribbles down their chins. 

It’s not long before Kuro is pressing two fingers in, then three, then four, pumping into him hard and quick. He watches Lance practically thrash on the sheets, watches Lance moan his name and buck his hips.

He lets his metal hand wrap around Lance’s neck, lets his claws dig just barely into the soft flesh. Lance arches, his mouth falling open as he practically wails. Cute.

He drags the claws down Lance’s chest, watches the blood pool. He licks his lips. A taste he’s been dying for; he laps the blood up, listens and _feels_ Lance whimpering under him.

And when he pulls away, to admire the tips of red that adorn his claws, Lance pulls at his wrist, takes his claws into his mouth and swipes the blood away, sucking at his fingers with full lips.

Kuro’s breath stutters. Lance’s legs open wider.

“Fuck me, Kuro.”

* * *

 

Kuro is already aware of the presence in the back of his mind. The Champion, Shiro. He supposes if he were an actual clone they’d be brothers. But no. He is just an imaginative figment made into reality, based on reality.

It’s a strange existence. But there’s no reason to question it. He knows his purpose. And he thinks he’s fulfilling it quite well. He can’t help but wonder how the Blue Paladin hasn’t noticed his lies yet. The Galra grow stronger, and so does the Paladins…affection? Not quite. Need. And so does the Paladins _need_ for him.

Humans are flimsy creatures. They become addicted on the simplest of things. Sex included, it seems.

It endlessly amuses him to feel the desperation of Shiro-was that his name? - in the back of his mind, letting his reality seep into the dreams of the Black Paladin. Letting him watch as what he wants is taken by someone who shares his face. But Shiro hasn’t quite yet realized it.

He’ll let it drag on. See how far he can stretch this before the band breaks. Before he can take what he really wants, and be on his way.

Honestly, he’s already gotten enough. He could leave now. Even as he’s fucking Lance into the bed. But he won’t.

This is a game after all, and he’s having too much fun to give up just yet.

* * *

 

_This time Lance is sitting between his legs on the floor, hands smoothing along his thighs before resting at his hips. It only takes a few more moments before Lance leans forward, mouthing along his cock, practically nuzzling it._

_Shiro grips at the sheets, impatience bubbling inside of him as Lance slowly drags his tongue along his cock, already practically drooling once he finally takes the head into his mouth. His tongue presses flat against the slit, his eyes rolling up to look directly at him. The same clawed hand that left the slashes along Lance’s stomach grips his hair, pushing Lance further down on his cock, choking him._

_Shiro already knows he’s not in his own body. He’s just a witness to something much more intimate than he can understand. And whether this is a dream or some fucked up version of reality, he can’t be sure. The lines of reality and want have started to blur together past recognition._

_Want seems to be victorious as Lance takes his cock into his throat, still not even all the way to the base. Lance’s eyes meet his again, and there seems to be some sort of mutual understanding, because Shiro moves his hips, pushing Lance’s head further down with his hands._

_Lance’s eyes close, surrendering himself completely. Shiro feels something boiling in his gut. Something similar to remembrance. Like he’s been a witness to this before. He pushes it back, though. This is just a dream. A fucked up dream that feels all too real – with Lance swallowing around his swollen cock, his own cock flushed practically purple against his navel-_

Shiro awakes with a choking gasp, bile rising in his throat. Sickness floods his senses, all from disgust with himself.

He forces himself to breathe. Once he finally calms himself down, his gaze falls to Lance’s jacket thrown over a chair on the other side of the room.

It’s still a bit early. But still late enough for everyone else to have gone to bed. He groans, and forces himself out of bed. The sooner he gets Lance’s jacket back to him, the sooner he can go back to pretending that his brain hasn’t betrayed him in the best of ways the past few nights.

When he finally reaches Lance’s room, he can’t help but hesitate. Lance is probably still angry with him, for…whatever he did. And it was late. He didn’t want to make a bad situation worse.

He’s just about to leave when the door slides open.

Lance stands in the doorway, shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Shiro tries not to stare, or even give a second glance.

“I, um-“ Shiro starts intelligently, wincing at himself. “I have your jacket.” He holds it out for Lance to take.

“Oh.” Lance says, voice a tiny bit raspy. Shiro pays it no mind. “Thanks.”

Lance grips the jacket, and Shiro is about to leave when- he changes his mind. They need to talk. He needs to be honest, as much as he hates it. But the longer he acts like nothing is happening the more it’s going to drive them apart.

“Um. Actually.” Shiro tugs the jacket back to him, out of Lance’s hands. “We should talk. About earlier.”

“You mean training?” Lance’s brows furrow. “I’m sorry I snapped. I slept like shit last night. But we’re cool, right?”

“Of course.” Shiro smiles, gentle as he can. “But…there’s more. Can I come in?”

Lance’s gaze falls to the floor. “It’s kind of late, Shiro. Maybe we should just talk about it in the morning. I was just about to go to bed and I d-“

Lance never finishes the thought, because Shiro drops the jacket and opts to cup his face, pressing their lips together. Never forceful. Only gentle. Lance blinks, his hands flying out before freezing, entirely unsure about what to do. Shiro is kissing him. Shiro is fucking kissing him. It’s not some demented twin, it’s Shiro. _Shiro._ Finally.

Lance moans, because goddammit he’s waited so long for this. He fucking moans, and he can’t even be ashamed of himself. His hands grip Shiro’s biceps, squeezing.

“You’re such an asshole.” Lance mutters, hands finding their way to the front of Shiro’s shirt to grip his collar, then down to his waist to slip under and finally feel that body he could only dream about.

Shiro laughs, genuine and loud, and it’s the most beautiful thing Lance has ever heard in his life.

In a swift motion Lance has them both inside the room, the door shut, their bodies pressed back together. Shiro’s hands slip down his back, ghost over his ass, and grip the back of his thighs, pulling him up so-

A slow clapping has them both stopping dead in their tracks, Lance’s nails digging hard into Shiro’s waist as the realization hits him.

“Now isn’t this just a sight to behold.”

Lance watches the color drain from Shiro’s face, hears his breathing stutter as his gaze falls upon, well, him.

“I’m glad you could join us, Champion.” Kuro says, yellow eyes shining dangerously under the dim, blue light. “I _was_ getting tired of having to listen to Lance moan your name instead of mine. So maybe this will work things out.”

Shiro raises his cyborg hand, purple light filling the room with a dangerous glow. Lance takes a step back.

“Oh, no. None of that, now.” Kuro laughs, and with a simple flick of his wrist the light drained from Shiro’s hand. “There’s no need for violence.”

“This isn’t-I don’t understand,“ Shiro stutters, looking down at his hand, fingers curling and uncurling.

 “It isn’t that hard to figure out, Champ.” Kuro says, following it up with a dreamy sigh. “You think anything that’s happened the past few weeks is pure coincidence? Now don’t tell me you are really that stupid.”

“This wasn’t part of the agreement.” Lance bites, and before he can even process the situation any further he’s pinned to the wall, the air forced out of his lungs.

Kuro laughs, bitter and almost angry. “Are you serious? You’re lecturing me about the agreement right now? Get over yourself. Or don’t. I’m just giving you what you want.”

“I don’t-“

“I’m just an extension of your wants, baby. Anything you want, I know what it is. Every little thought in that big head of yours? I know it before you can even think it.”

Lance’s vision blurs at the edges, and he blinks, only to have Kuro leaning over him, hands pressed on either side of his head.

“You want me. You want him a little bit more. Why not have both?”

Lance blinks again, and suddenly Kuro is behind him, pushing him so he stumbles into Shiro’s arms. Kuro presses against him from behind, their hips slotting together almost perfectly.

Lance can’t help but groan. His gaze lifts to Shiro, who stares helplessly down at him, eyes wide, filled with so many different emotions.

Kuro reaches a hand over his shoulder to grip Shiro’s chin. “I’m tired of being stuck in the rising action. Why don’t we get right to the climax?”

Lance honestly has no idea what the fuck is going on. His life is so fucked up. So, so fucked up.

 


End file.
